There is an obvious problem with books about chocolate. If you want to actually use them (as opposed to drooling, slack jawed, over them), you will have to get over the fact that more than any other type of recipe book, there will be a disparity between the images of perfection within their pages and what you can achieve at home.

This is a nightmare for anyone who, like me, has a perfectionist streak. I have had to accept that as I do not have decades of experience behind me, I am never going to match a chocolatier on presentation. My squares of sachertorte won't have clean hospital corners, my pastilles will not be uniform in shape and size and my decorative waves, curls and discs will be misshapen and break.

I also have to accept that as making chocolates is not something I am likely to do on a very regular basis, I will never be able to temper on a marble slab or enrobe my ganache with the elegant and effortless aplomb of Juliette Binoche in Chocolat. Instead, I have to embrace the mess. This is best done by involving children. I used to do this regularly with young relatives around Christmas time – home made chocolate truffles were always popular presents, despite their ramshackle appearance, and with individual truffles costing so much these days (Paul A Young's start at £2 each), following the recipes in his book are probably the best way to enjoy them.

Mess and aesthetics aside, everything I have attempted from the following books has tasted pretty damn good. There is inevitable overlap, from similar flavours (everyone freely uses salted caramel, for instance) to individual takes on classics such as rochers (nothing resembling the Ferrero atrocity, fortunately), macarons and sachertorte. All cover the chocolate basics in varying degrees of detail, and pretty much agree on things such as quantities and temperatures needed for tempering (stabilising your chocolate so it retains a high gloss and snappy texture). This is reassuring as chocolate is an expensive ingredient no one wants to waste. If you really don't want to bother with tempering (although you should, it's easy if you have a thermometer - here's a guide from Hope and Greenwood's book) there are numerous recipes in all of these books which don't require it.

The book I expected to find most impenetrable ended up being the one I was most comfortable using. This is Cooking with Chocolate which was published in time for Chocolate Week and is an encyclopaedic tour de force from Frederic Bau, founder of the exclusive Ecole du Gran Chocolat Valrhona.

It stands out because Bau and his team can teach. He was insistent that the instructions should be detailed - a boon for anyone who has ever been frustrated by sparsely written methods in high end restaurants' books. The techniques section in particular is superb – besides a large number of building block recipes (no less than seven types of mousse), there are troubleshooting pages and numerous general tips - I learn along the way how to make sure my egg whites don't reliquify after whisking, that my ganaches will emulsify if I follow his "three thirds" rule. Many of the recipes are surprisingly easy. A handful in the confectionary chapter seem beyond my capabilities, but I can cope with everything else, including some very elegant tarts and gateaux. There's also some genuinely family friendly stuff including a homemade chocolate spread which is much nicer than Nutella and lots of chocolate flavoured drinks, including an indulgent teh-tarik.

William Curley has to be a man who is obsessively perfectionist - the creations in his book are exquisitely beautiful and flawlessly executed. There is a substantial section on decorations, but delve deeper and you will soon realise that he is all about flavour. The influence of his Japanese wife is evident, through ganaches infused with matcha, wasabi, yuzu and even sake, there is humour in his poshed up favourites - a blackcurrant Tunnock's teacake, a Bounty-inspired coconut bar, chocolate enrobed cinder toffee (honey flavoured Crunchie) and a millionaire's shortbread complete with gold leaf. My tastes lean towards a chocolate rum baba, some infused bars and lollipops I think even my 4 year old will be able to help make and a moreish almond milk ice cream lolly.

A Japanese influence is also clear in Louise Nasan and Chikako Watanabe's Melt although more through style than flavour. Design-wise, this is my favourite, as it has an elegant spareness which allow Jean Cazals' incredible photographs room to breathe. Although this book has less detail, I still pick up some good tips (like polishing moulds with cotton wool to help the chocolate stay shiny). It also uses some of my favourite flavours (tonka, some ginger and fennel discs perfect for anyone suffering from morning sickness, a Christmassy spiced marzipan, orange blossom) and some I've never tried, such as shichimi togarashi (Japanese 7 spice).

I reckon all these books have raised my chocolatey game even if most of my efforts still don't look as good as they taste. Do you manage to embrace the homemade look of your chocolate creations, or do you strive for perfection? And do you have a particular chocolate book or recipe which you swear by?